


Confessions at Jungle

by seekeronthepath



Series: Omegle: Surprisingly Awesome [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Clubbing, Communication, Dancing, Incomplete, Jealous Derek, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining Derek, Possessive Behavior, The Jungle (Teen Wolf)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 23:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4938634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek isn't a fan of Stiles going to Jungle. Stiles refuses to stay home. They compromise. Derek comes along and a few things come to light.</p><p>[Incomplete - sorry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions at Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS  
> So, in the texting section at the beginning of this fic, Derek behaves in a fairly controlling way, and Stiles calls him on it. Once Stiles explains why, Derek apologises, and they come to a compromise, but look out for yourselves if you need to.
> 
> Explanation of the 'incomplete' tag:  
> We broke off this rp in the middle of a sex scene. Uh. Kind of awkward? I considered chopping off some of the stuff leading up to it, but I couldn't find a good spot without getting rid of a lot. And I considered at least getting them into the shower and then fading to black, but I couldn't quite get a grip on my writing partner's Derek. So I'm posting as is, with apologies. You'll just have to imagine what comes next yourselves. ;)

Jesus Christ, Derek, really?

 

**Don't start, Stiles.**

 

You don't actually get to order me around

I'm not your beta

 

**I'm not explaining myself. You can save it.**

 

If you're not going to explain yourself, I'm not going to listen to you

 

**That's slightly redundant, you know.**

 

Either you tell me /why/ you think I need a curfew, or I'm going to Jungle tomorrow.

 

**Good luck getting there.**

 

...did you do something to Roscoe?

Derek! No!

 

**I didn't touch that death trap. I just meant good luck getting past my wolf.**

 

Nooo. Derek. I wanted to go to Jungle.

Seriously, why?

 

**Because it's not safe.**

 

Yes, thanks, I got that that was your assessment of the situation.

 

**Then why are you being difficult about this?**

 

Because an argument from authority is never going to work on me

/You/ think it's dangerous, but you have told me absolutely nothing about why or how it's dangerous, or why me staying home instead of going to Jungle matters.

 

**It's dangerous because I don't like a couple of the individuals there.**

 

Are they human individuals, or creatures of the night?

 

**What does that have to do with anything? They're human.**

 

Because if they're human, I doubt the drag queens will let them give me trouble

They like me

 

**Plenty of people there like you.**

 

Exactly my point. I'm not going to get into trouble.

 

**That's exactly what you're going there for.**

 

I'm going there to dance, to feel sexy, and to have fun

 

**You'd have way too much fun.**

 

Derek, I don't understand why you're objecting to this so much

It's not your business

 

**It is my business if something happens to you.**

 

Then come with me instead of trying to ground me like I'm twelve.

You can't pull this shit, Derek.

 

**Me at Jungle?**

 

You can give me orders, or you can be my friend

Not both

If you want you can lurk in a corner and glare at me while I dance, but you aren't keeping me home because you don't want me to have fun.

It's not because I don't want you to have fun...

 

**Fine, whatever...I'll go.**

 

Well, that's what I got out of your explanation

Good.

 

**That's what you would get out of my explanation.**

 

If I'm so predictable, you should have explained it differently so that I'd understand what you mean.

 

**I'm not your dad, Stiles. It wasn't a goddamned grounding, or curfew!**

 

You were trying to trap me in my house

 

**I was trying to protect you.**

 

You are the most socially-maladjusted man I've ever met

You shouldn't be protecting me from /living/

 

**I was protecting you from people who'd hurt you. You forget I have senses you don't.**

 

Derek, if protecting me means putting me in an ivory tower, I don't /want/ your protection

 

**I said I was going, you can go. Why are you still arguing about this?**

 

Because it's not the first time you've pulled this sort of shit, and I don't think it'll be the last time unless we talk about why you think that's okay

 

**I don't get why watching out for you is so damned offensive.**

 

It's not the watching, it's the way you try to control me. You treat me like I'm not capable of making my own decisions about my safety.

 

**I don't want to control you.**

**I just want...**

_[delay]_

**Just forget it, I said I'd go.**

 

Derek...

I don't want...I just don't understand.

 

**You don't want...what?**

 

I care about you, you know? I hate it when we argue like this, when it's not just bickering, when it's actually important.

And it's obvious to me that this /is/ important, to you

And that I'm missing something

 

**I hate it too.**

**If it's so obvious then can't you just...cut me some slack...for once?**

 

I want to, I do, but...our relationship is too important to me for me to let it become unhealthy because something's bothering you

 

**You think me trying to protect you is unhealthy?**

 

I think the /way/ you're trying to protect me is unhealthy

Derek, look at how this happened, okay?

You noticed some people at Jungle who you thought would be trouble for me. Instead of telling me about them so I knew to avoid them, you ordered me not to go to Jungle. When I said that I wasn't going to take orders from you, you said you were going to physically prevent me from leaving my house.

When I asked you why, you gave me as little information as possible

That's controlling, and it's borderline abusive, and I'm not going to accept it from you

 

_[delay]_

**I might have approached it as more wolf than human.**

**I didn't mean it like...**

**I'd never be abusive to you.**

 

You mean you'd never hit me.

There a lot of kinds of abuse

 

**I'd never want to abuse you in any way, shape or form Stiles. I felt hellish for days just for little shit I did early on!**

 

Well that's good to know, but...you have to listen to me when I tell you something's wrong

You don't have to agree with me, but you have to listen to my reasoning, and /share your own/

 

**Listening to your reasoning has me going to Jungle.**

 

Is it really that bad?

You could send someone else with me if you really hate the idea

 

**No.**

 

Then stop complaining

 

**What time do you want me to pick you up?**

 

Uh...ten, I guess?

 

**Fine. I'll be there.**

 

Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that you're willing to compromise.

 

**I don't have much choice.**

 

You do have a choice. You could have chosen to ignore me and make me angry at you. You could have chosen to warn me and let me go on my own. You could have chosen to get someone else to go with me, and told us both what to look out for.

I'm glad you're coming with me.

 

**You are?**

 

I do actually enjoy your company, you know

 

**I'm not much of a wingman.**

 

I don't need you to be my wingman, Derek

 

**That I believe.**

 

That's not what I meant

 

**What did you mean?**

 

I meant, I'm just looking to dance tonight. To feel good in my body, to feel like people think I'm sexy, to enjoy myself.

I'm not planning to come home with phone numbers on my arm

 

**You won't have to plan it.**

 

You're seriously overestimating my appeal, dude

 

**Or you're seriously underestimating it.**

 

I think you're just remembering what happens to /you/ when you go clubbing and assume the same's going to happen to me

 

**I don't club.**

 

That doesn't mean you haven't

Your past outside of BH is shadowy and hidden, and I choose to assume that Laura dragged you along to clubs now and again

 

**Dragged is the keyword, but yes she did**

 

And I'm guessing you glowered and scowled and heard a lot of really awful pick-up lines

 

**I do not glower.**

**I'm just...serious. There's a difference.**

 

Oh, you have resting bitch face, but you also glower

 

**If I do, there's probably a good reason for it**

 

Mm. Everyone thinks they have good reasons for what they do.

 

**Some reasons warrant things a lot more than others**

 

It's very frustrating when you get all vague and mysterious like this, do you know that?

 

**I wasn't being...**

_[delay]_

**I just have my reasons**

 

I know

You'll tell me eventually, if I need to know

Or I'll badger it out of you, one way or the other

 

**How would you badger it out of me?**

 

By being excessively annoying, nagging you constantly, making guesses at random times, getting your betas to help me figure it out and springing their ideas on you

 

**Keep them out of this, Stiles.**

 

Look, for now, I won't push.

I get the sense this is the sort of thing you /should/ tell someone, and that it probably eventually should be me

But you're not ready yet, and that's fine

 

**Your never-ending quest for information has a stopping point?**

 

More like, I'm willing to put my curiosity on hold for a little while

 

_[delay]_

**How long’s a while?**

 

Until you do something that brings it to my attention again and fail to convince me that I should leave it alone for longer

 

**I'm not trying to stop you going out.**

 

I appreciate that you're not

 

**Believe it, or not I'm not against you having fun.**

 

Sometimes you sound like it

 

_[delay]_

**I'm sorry.**

 

It's okay. I don't really understand, but it's okay.

 

**It's just...the way you want to have fun sometimes.**

 

That I want to feel good? Desirable?

It's my body, Derek

 

**Let's just not.**

 

...if that's what you want, Derek

 

**I don't want to talk about why you're going.**

 

Okay.

Derek stared at his phone with a frown and when Stiles didn’t said anything else, he sighed and set it down, rolling over onto his stomach to pull his pillow over his head with a low groan. He was not looking forward to tomorrow night, not one bit.

Stiles considered his phone for a long time before he put it down, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Something was wrong with Derek, something to do with Stiles and Jungle, but he insisted on talking around it. It just felt...wrong. They were out of sync, and Stiles hated that. Maybe tomorrow night would help? Or at least, help Stiles figure out what was going on.

\-----

The next night Derek moved around like a robot as he got ready, donning a simple pair black skinny jeans and his maroon sweater with thumb holes, hoping it would let him just blend into the woodwork...or most likely the bar, where he intended to sit and pretend to not be watching Stiles 'being sexy' with various dance partners. He pulled up at the Stilinski house around five to ten and turned down his music, waiting for Stiles.

Stiles dithered over his clothing, comparing outfits indecisively as the clock ticked nearer to ten. In the end, he picked a pair of skinny jeans that usually got him appreciative looks, and a tight v-necked t-shirt. He fixed his hair in the mirror, debated and abandoned the eye-shadow and the glitter, checked the time, swore, and hurried downstairs to find Derek waiting outside. "Hey, Derek," he said, flinging himself sideways into the passenger seat. "Sorry to make you wait."

Derek side-eyed Stiles as he got in and his lips pressed into a thin line before he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "I'm not in any hurry," he mumbled, his posture relaxed back into the seat...all except for his hands gripping the steering wheel.

Stiles grimaced. Derek was obviously not expecting to enjoy himself - he was driving like he was about to go into battle - but he was just as obviously determined to go through with this. Fuck. He just wanted a fun night, and now it was full of pack drama. Why did this always happen?

Derek turned up the music again, a preemptive strike to Stiles possibly asking more questions - although he suspected that wouldn't really stop Stiles if he wanted to ask things. He seemed to be sticking to his word not to push. Derek was silently grateful for that. When they got to the club and made their way inside Derek sighed as he looked over the twisting throng of hard bodies on the dance floor, resigning himself to a night of something close to hell before turning to Stiles. "I'll...be over there." He pointed to the bar and headed off without so much as waiting for a response.

Stiles rolled his eyes as Derek stalked off. He was incredibly cranky today, and it was starting to piss Stiles off. No. Stiles shook off his mood and looked at the dance floor. He was here to have fun, to forget about the day-to-day wolf drama, to let go of all the thoughts and feelings that kept him up at night, and just...be for a while. He insinuated himself in among the dancers, grinned at the first person who looked at him, and threw himself into the motions.

 

Derek hunched his shoulders as he leaned on the bar scowling sideways in Stiles’ direction as he instantly found someone to dance with - the guy seemed to be all too happy to have Stiles pick him, too. Derek gritted his teeth and ordered a mineral water, huffing lowly when Stiles' dance partner got closer.

Stiles moved closer, letting the blond slide up against him, feeling the bass thrumming in his chest like a heart-beat. When the song changed, he grinned at his partner, and moved on. He kept doing that, moving through the crowd as the music changed, until he was at the very centre, surrounded by motion.

The more Derek watched the tighter his jaw clenched: it was a wonder his teeth didn't crack from the pressure. He was completely oblivious to what was going on around him as he watched Stiles, silently seething. A tap on his shoulder made him blink and turn to see a vaguely familiar face smiling at him. "Miguel, isn't it? You honestly don't look anything like a relative of Stiles." Derek blinked again. "I'm not a rel - oh. Yeah..."

When Stiles dug his way out of the crowd to get a drink, he saw Derek, looking extremely awkward, talking to Danny at the bar. Stiles was reluctant to approach them, but from the look of things, Derek needed a rescue. "Danny!" he called. "It's good to see you, how are you going?"

Danny had just been leaning over to suggest Derek join him on the dance floor, barely beginning his invitation when Stiles showed up beside them. Danny stood back, and though he looked a little disappointed at being interrupted, he smiled and answered Stiles. Derek looked so relieved to see Stiles it would have been comical - maybe a little too relieved for a 'cousin'.

"Hey Stiles," Danny replied. "I was just saying hi to Miguel." Stiles nearly choked on his own spit, and exchanged a horrified glance with Derek. "Right," said Stiles. "Uh...Miguel, would you mind getting me a drink? I'm getting kind of insanely thirsty." Hopefully that would get Derek out of the line of fire for a minute. His glowering would probably put the nail in the coffin of Danny's 'friendliness'.

Derek couldn't help but catch Stiles nearly choking, his shocked expression causing a slight twitch at the corners of Derek's lips - even though he was still too unhappy with the night's proceedings to actually smile - as Stiles got caught up in his own lie. Derek sat back and nodded as he murmured in a dry tone, "Sure...coz." He slipped off the barstool and went to order Stiles a drink - and then went ahead and ordered one for Danny as well because...well, it'd be rude to just come back without one, since he was still there talking to Stiles.

Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek's verbal jab, but inwardly sighed with relief to see Derek a little more relaxed. "So, uh, Danny..." he cast around for anything to talk about, and gratefully let Danny pick up the conversational slack. Danny obviously didn't plan to leave without talking to 'Miguel' some more. He was still making small talk when Derek came back with Stiles' drink and...one for Danny? Stiles raised his eyebrows, wondering if he should get out of Derek's way.

Derek sat back on his abandoned barstool and met Stiles' raised brows with a slightly confused expression, not sure what had caused the look, after he'd handed them both their drinks. Derek turned so his back to the bar and rested his elbows on it, feeling much more relaxed now that Stiles was here and not dancing way too close to random guys.

Derek looked more comfortable now. Apparently talking to Danny was helping? He really thought he should get out of Derek's way, now. He swallowed his drink quickly and set the glass back down on the bar. "Thanks for this," he said to Derek quietly. "I'm going to dance some more." He nodded to Danny, and walked back over to the dance floor.

 

Derek had actually relaxed enough to smile slightly at something Danny had joked about: the night didn't feel quite so hellish now that Stiles was beside him. Of course, because the universe seemed to hate him, that was when Stiles announced he was leaving and going back to dancing. Derek forced himself not to look disappointed. "Yeah. Okay," he murmured. It was what Danny had been waiting for and as soon as Stiles had gotten back to dancing, Danny asked Derek to and even though he started to say he wasn't there to dance, Danny just laughed and grabbed his arm, leading him out to the floor and saying, "No one comes to Jungle to just sit around." Derek couldn't very well say he'd come because he couldn't bear the thought of Stiles in this environment without Derek keeping an eye on him, and hopefully deterring him from a hook-up.

Stiles hadn't left Derek and Danny alone for long when he noticed them on the dance floor. He rolled his eyes. Typical. Derek sits there glowering for half an hour while Stiles dances, but as soon as Danny shows up, he ends up on the dance floor. Deliberately, Stiles turned his back and looked elsewhere. If Derek had decided he was going to try to have fun, with Danny, then Stiles wasn't going to embarrass him by pointing it out.

Derek was inwardly growling in frustration as Danny maneuvered him onto the dance floor and he couldn't come up with a way to turn the guy down, but he plastered on as pleasant an expression as he could manage. Danny was actually nice and Derek didn't want to be a dick...so he danced, which he could do quite well, thanks to Laura's insistence when they'd lived in the city.

Stiles looked back over his shoulder at the guy grinding up against his ass, then did a double take as he saw Derek dancing with Danny not too far away. Derek was good. For all his scowling and growling, he was, actually, amazing. He just...he had all the right muscles in all the best places, obviously, but he was so confident in his body. In his _sexy_ body. He was getting appreciative looks from half the room, and the other half hadn't noticed him yet. He just...Derek was such a physical person sometimes, so confident and comfortable in his physicality. Stiles hadn't put two and two together to figure out that that would make him a very good dancer.

Despite dancing easily with Danny, Derek was completely oblivious to how close Danny had turned the dance. He was simply letting the beat move him as all his attention was covertly trained on Stiles, looking through his lashes so it wasn't obvious. Derek was thinking up a dozen horrible things he could do to Stiles' current dance partner, the negative energy fuelling his moves so it looked like he was enjoying himself, but he was far from happy and it didn't escape Danny's notice. What did startle Derek into paying attention to Danny was Stiles' name being said. He blinked at Danny and arched his brows as Danny repeated his question: "So why are you here dancing with me when you can't take your eyes off your ‘cousin’?" Danny's good natured tone said he wasn't upset, maybe a little disappointed...and he'd figured out Stiles' lie somehow.

Stiles was finding it difficult to enjoy himself, now. He couldn't stop thinking about Derek: about how weird he'd been yesterday, how tense he'd been in the car, his glowering at the bar, and his sudden reversal when Danny showed up. He'd loosened up, even started dancing, when yesterday he'd insisted he 'didn't club'. Did he just have a thing for Danny?

Derek's startled expression got a knowing grin out of Danny and when Derek opened his mouth to deny it Danny just shook his head. "Don't even try telling me he's your cousin. I wasn't born yesterday - if looks could kill, all of Stiles' dance partners would be littering the floor. Just my luck to pick the guy who’s gone on someone already! You should ask him to dance - judging by the way he's looking over here I bet he'd say yes." Derek had never had someone read him like that before and it unnerved him completely. He abruptly stopped dancing and frowned at Danny. "I can't...I just..." he stuttered, lost for words. He suddenly needed out of the crowd in the worst way, needed away from Danny's far-too-perceptive gaze...he bolted.

Stiles had only looked away for a moment, but Derek was gone, leaving Danny alone on the dance floor. Stiles gave up on dancing altogether and shoved his way through the crowd to Danny. "What happened? Where did he go?" Stiles demanded. Danny gave him a wry look. "I told him I knew you weren't cousins, and asked about you. He ran." Stiles threw a hasty "thanks" over his shoulder as he hurried in the direction Danny had pointed. Where had Derek gone?

 

Derek headed for the back door and got himself outside, where he stopped and took a deep breath of the night air, closing his eyes. What was he doing? He couldn't just leave Stiles here, that had been the whole point of coming. He curled his fingers over the rail by the door and sighed heavily. Danny had unnerved him completely, just read him like a book, like Derek was wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

The door banged open as Stiles ran out, casting his eyes around desperately for some sign of Derek, only to almost overlook him because, instead of running, he was just standing there, leaning on a railing. He looked...shaken. "Derek..." Stiles asked tentatively. "Are you alright?"

Derek straightened up instantly at the sound of Stiles' voice and tried to force the shaken feeling away as he turned to face him. "I'm fine, yeah. I just...I needed some fresh air." The comment didn't even sound convincing to his own ears and he inwardly cringed. He tried a diversion tactic. "Why are you out here instead of dancing?" He wasn't sure how Stiles had even known he was out here almost immediately after he'd walked outside.

Stiles licked his lips nervously. "I saw you were gone..." He looked Derek over, wondering what it was that had upset him so much. He suddenly felt guilty for asking Derek to come with him. "I'm sorry," he said heavily. "I didn't realise..."

Derek looked surprised and it took him a full moment to reply "You noticed my not being in there? I thought you were busy..." Stiles’ heavy tone made Derek frown...he sounded like someone had just sucked all the fun out of his night. Well of course he did, Derek had somehow been the one to do it, although he wasn't sure how this time.

Stiles tried for a smile. It was a pretty pathetic attempt. "I don't know if you noticed, but your dancing got pretty much everyone's attention," he said wryly. "Of course I noticed when you left."

Derek's brows hiked up a far enough distance to give away he hadn't noticed at all, but the fact Stiles had been one of the people's attention he had gotten surprised him. In a good way. "I...couldn't keep up with Danny." It wasn't a lie, he just happened not to be talking about the dancing.

Stiles pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. Derek was obviously lying about something - he couldn't possibly have been too tired to dance already. "You were good, you know," Stiles said absently, as he tried to figure out what was actually going on. "I should have guessed you'd be a great dancer."

Derek leaned back into the rail and wrapped his arms around himself in a casual pose, or that was the look he was going for, because Stiles was eyeing him like he was about to ask him what was going on again. "Laura always dragged me out with her, insisted it wasn't good for me to 'mope' around the apartment all day. Mind you...I wasn't 'moping', but she was a lot like you and loved having fun, smiling...made other people want to be around her." Derek looked down after a moment. He hadn't really meant to say all that, it'd just slipped out.

Stiles scrambled for something to say that would honour Derek's memories of Laura - Stiles knew he hoarded them like gold. "Do you think she would have liked me?" he asked at last, hoping that the conversational tangent might help Derek relax. He still didn't know what was wrong, but he was starting to think it was more than just a freak-out.

Derek nodded, a faint, wistful smile touching his lips as he looked somewhere just past Stiles' shoulder. "She would have loved you. You have a sense of humor a lot like hers, it would have won her over instantly." Without realizing it, Derek's voice hadn't just been warm when he talked about Laura; it'd stayed that way when he talked about Stiles.

It struck Stiles deeply to hear Derek talk that way. Unconsciously, he stepped forward. "Derek, I..." he began, then gave up, and tried again. "I'm hugging you now," he said, stronger. He moved slow enough for Derek to get out of the way - sometimes he was touchy about his personal space - but since Derek didn't, Stiles kept going until he was holding Derek tightly. He was so tense.

Derek had already run from his feelings once tonight, but that had been when Danny had confronted him about them, and this was Stiles, and he wasn't confronting Derek he was...hugging him. Derek hadn't expected that. He expected his own reaction even less: he slowly found himself melting into it and he wrapped his arms back around Stiles.

 

Stiles wondered how long it had been since someone had hugged Derek. He seemed so surprised, so...overwhelmed. Stiles held him tighter, stroking his back as the tension eased out of him. Stilinskis gave the best hugs, after all. After a little while, Derek's grip on Stiles became firmer, more sure, the hug more equal, until at last Stiles gave him one more squeeze and let go. "Are you...did that help?" he asked, hesitantly.

Derek knew he was usually good as his impassive expressions, keeping his guard up and keeping anyone from seeing anything he didn't want them to, but this night seemed to have other plans for him: first with Danny's uncanny ability to see his feelings for Stiles, and now his being unable to hide the raw emotions in his eyes. Derek held Stiles' gaze, locked on it, and it was train wreck, he knew it, but he couldn't drag his eyes away, until he was pretty damn sure he'd given away a lot more than he'd wanted to "I...it..." He nodded and dropped his gaze to his feet.

There was...so much in Derek's eyes. They were full of deep, rich emotions, almost indecipherable to Stiles, but he could see that they were bittersweet, the kind that ached in your chest. He didn't understand, but he knew he was so close to understanding, that something about tonight - with the not dancing, and the dancing, and Danny, and the hug - had opened up a Pandora's box that Derek didn't know how to close, and if Stiles could only figure it out...he didn't know what would happen. But something would.

Derek couldn't quite get a deep breath. He could still feel the warmth of Stiles' arms around him, his scent was clinging to his sweater, and he felt completely bereft now that the hug was over. It was like being handed a present that made you feel whole somehow and then having it yanked away. Derek's heart was clenching painfully and his breath shallow, and he wrapped his arms back around himself less casually this time...almost defensively.

Something caught in Stiles' throat at the way Derek hugged himself - like he was holding himself together, in case he broke. He stepped closer, tentatively putting a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Hey," he murmured. "It'll be alright." Stiles didn't know what he was promising would be alright, but that didn't matter.

Derek's gaze flickered back up to Stiles' searchingly, his expression lost, because for the life of him he couldn’t drag his mask back up. The hug, the hand on his shoulder...it was pulling all of his buried feelings for the human dangerously close to the surface. "I'm...I'm fine," Derek answered quietly, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Stiles smiled sadly at him. "It's okay to not be fine, you know," he pointed out softly. He didn't let go of Derek's shoulder, didn't step away, didn't do anything but be there for the man that, for some reason, was suddenly so fragile. "I'm here, okay? Whatever it is," Stiles promised, "I'm here."

 

First the hug had dropped his mask, and now Stiles was chipping away at Derek's carefully constructed walls without even knowing it. Stiles' scent was filling Derek’s lungs and making him wish he could just pull him into his arms all over again. Derek didn't know how to do it, though. Something people did every day with ease seemed completely daunting...admitting feelings was daunting and making a move like that felt like admitting them. "You can't say that Stiles. What if...it was something you didn't...want to be here for?"

It nearly broke Stiles' heart to hear the hesitation, the doubt in Derek's voice, to see the way he both leaned forwards and held himself back. And it shook Stiles to realise he'd never known this was here, that something so important to Derek had completely passed him by until now. "Derek," he said firmly, squeezing Derek's shoulder briefly. "You're my friend. Outside of Scott, you're probably my best friend. I will be here for you. And if I can't be here for you with this, right now, then I'll keep coming back until I can."

Derek swallowed and inwardly groaned at himself when he was pretty sure he flinched slightly at the word 'friend'. He tried to soothe his worries by telling himself he might have only flinched on the inside - maybe it hadn't even been visible. He broke eye contact and chastised himself. He wanted to be Stiles' friend, it was just the pining for more that was getting increasingly harder to deal with. " 'This' is...you wouldn't..." He shook his head and shrugged, defeated.

Stiles frowned as Derek pulled away from him - if not physically, then emotionally. "We have been through so much shit," he urged. "We have been on different sides of a three-sided battle, we have saved each other's lives so many _fucking_ times. We have been on the front lines of every fucking disaster this town has thrown at us, and we are _still here_." Stiles tried, desperately, to catch Derek's eyes again. "The worst that can happen, the _worst_ Derek, is that I need to take a step back for a while, but I will come back for you. I will _always_ come back for you, like you have always come back for me. _It will be okay_."

Stiles' impassioned speech stripped Derek of his defences and he was left with nothing but raw emotions. He tried to force any kind of words out, to finally say it, say something, anything, but the words lodged in his throat. Being reminded of everything they'd been through together, of how many times both of them had nearly died, Stiles saying he'd always come back for him even if he stepped back...Derek moved before he even knew he was going to. His heart just about dropped to his toes when he realized what he was doing, his hand was curled over Stiles' nape and he was kissing him. Derek pulled back jerkily, stunned at his own actions, his voice little more than an exhaled breath. "I'm...sorry...I didn't - I shouldn't have...I just..." He started backing up towards the door.

 

"Wait!" Stiles stumbled forward to catch Derek by the hand, his mind reeling. "Just...wait, please, Derek," he begged. Derek had...had kissed him? Derek had kissed him. Quite a lot, actually. Derek...Derek wanted to kiss him, _had_ wanted to kiss him. Stiles thought back over the last couple of days...protectiveness became possessiveness, grumpiness became jealousy, and if Stiles didn't know what exactly had happened with Danny, he knew enough to guess that it was just one last snowflake on the avalanche that was Derek's unrevealed feelings.

Derek froze, his eyes catching Stiles' and searching them, almost a little frantic, like he was afraid what he was going to find if he searched too hard. "You said you'd take a step back, I was just...doing it for you." He looked like he was expecting a lot more than a step, like he was waiting for Stiles to turn and run for all he was worth. Derek's expression settled into something close to resigned acceptance, waiting for the inevitable.

"I said _at worst_ I'd take a step back, Derek, please don't run away from me," Stiles corrected. "I'm not letting go, I'm just...processing." He glanced up at Derek, saw the stricken look in his eyes, and cursed himself. "It's okay, Derek, it's fine. I'm not going to leave you just because you want to...kiss...me." He shook his head in confusion. "You want to kiss me? Well, I guess you have kissed me. You want to keep kissing me, then. To kiss me a lot."

Derek's expression slowly went from tense and fearful to questioning as Stiles 'processed' and didn't immediately leave, or tell Derek off for kissing him...even asked him to stay. Derek hadn't expected that - he wasn't sure how to even react to that - or the way Stiles was still holding his hand now like some kind of lifeline. Derek swallowed and nodded hesitantly. "I...have wanted to, I do...want to. All the time. I'm sorry," he added automatically.

"No," Stiles contradicted. "You don't, you shouldn't...Don't apologise for wanting someone." His fingers clutched Derek's convulsively. "You...I would never have...me?” He shook his head. "I don't understand, why me?"

Derek's eyes widened a little, his brows rising at Stiles' question; he looked completely dumbfounded. "Why you?" he repeated as if the question made no sense, and then he remembered how Stiles was always underestimating his own appeal. Derek shook his head and answered warmly " _Because_ you're you Stiles. Because of everything you are." A slight flush crept up under his stubble after answering so honestly, far too revealingly.

Stiles stared. Derek wanted to kiss him because he was...him? Derek...wanted a lot more than kisses. Derek wanted - had - Feelings, capital F. "I didn't know," he murmured. "I swear I didn't know, or I...you're hurting, why are you hurting?" Because Derek was hurting right now - Stiles could see it in his eyes.

Derek's breath hitched when Stiles asked him why he was hurting. He leaned just a little closer and answered quietly, "Because now...you know," as if that explained everything and the message was obvious...he was just waiting for Stiles to reject him, and he didn't even try to hide it.

 

Stiles couldn't...Derek was so...Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to think. Derek 'something'-ed him, a lot, and had for a while. He'd been hiding it because he was...afraid of rejection? And now that he'd told Stiles, he'd expected Stiles to...to run away, or hold it against him, or some shit like that. Well, Stiles wasn't running away. But what now? Because he knew he needed to either give Derek as gentle a 'no' as he could, or tell him 'yes'. And Stiles...could Stiles say yes? He'd never thought about it. Oh, he'd had the occasional fantasy - Derek was hot as fuck - but anything more? No, he hadn't thought about it. But now that he was thinking about it...kissing Derek, cuddling him, taking him on dates, bantering with him, sleeping beside him - it sounded...good. "Don't..." he said at last. "Don't hurt, Derek, I don't want you hurt. I can't say I've thought about it like you have, but, I guess, I'd like to...try?"

Derek took a slow, deep breath and looked somewhere between frowning and hesitantly hopeful. "Are you saying that to keep me from...hurting?" he asked quietly, still uncomfortable admitting he was, but he couldn’t really deny it at this point. Derek didn't think it was the right time to explain his wolf had made him start thinking about it - that the pining and want had been there long before he'd recognized actual feelings for Stiles, and then it'd just grown steadily.

"I..." Stiles blew out an impatient breath. "Fuck, I'm doing this all wrong," he muttered. "I wouldn't...string you along, I guess, if I wasn't...sincere?" He struggled to find the right words. "I don't...I don't know what I'm doing. I, obviously I don't, uh, feel the same way you do yet, but I think...maybe I could? There's potential there, I think. And I, I guess I wouldn't have thought about it in the same way, if you weren't hurting so much, but it's not because you're hurting that I'm saying yes."

Derek wasn't sure what to do, or say then. He oddly felt a sense of ease curling through him. He'd been through more than his fair share of bad relationships and they'd all started out with someone chasing him; this was completely the opposite, and something about that felt reassuring. Not that he was chasing Stiles, but he was the first one to feel something, a strong something, things he definitely wasn't ready to put into words just yet - but that was okay because Stiles wasn't ready to hear them yet. "You're not...doing anything wrong. I'm the one that just...kissed you out of nowhere," he murmured.

"Yeah, well, surprise kisses are fine, it's not like I was trying to get out of your space," Stiles pointed out. "You're the one with Feelings, and I'm doing a shitty job of being considerate." He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "I just...I always promised myself I'd be kind, if I ever found out someone liked me. And I've just been confusing and failing to communicate." He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. Can we hug some more, maybe? I got the feeling you need more hugs." He smiled a little. "And maybe more kisses, too."

Understanding crossed over Derek's face instantly. Of course Stiles would worry he was doing everything wrong, of course he wanted to be kind if someone liked him...after all, he'd been on the hurtful end of a one sided crush with Lydia for half his life. Derek was pretty sure if this turned out to be just him pining for Stiles and Stiles never feeling it back, something in him was going to break, but he'd never let Stiles know that, or feel the pressure of it. "I've got the feeling...I might not be the only one about now," he admitted softly and drew Stiles into his arms.

 

Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder, trying to figure out how Derek had ended up comforting him instead of the other way around. But it felt so good - god, he felt so _safe_ \- in Derek's arms that Stiles really didn't want to think too hard about it. After a long, long moment, Stiles moved back enough to rest his forehead against Derek's, his hands linked behind Derek's neck. "Hey," he murmured, waiting for Derek to look up at him, and then he drew Derek into a kiss.

Derek made a soft, low sound in his throat when Stiles kissed him that didn't sound altogether human. It felt so good having Stiles back in his arms that that alone would have been enough, but the kiss just made him feel whole again, like the first time Stiles had hugged him. Derek pressed closer, deepening it a little, with his hand stroking over Stiles' back.

Stiles moaned a little when Derek deepened the kiss, moving closer so he could feel Derek pressed against him. When he thought of putting hands in Derek's hair his hand twitched, but he resisted at first. It seemed unlike Derek. Then again, all of this seemed unlike Derek. When a hand in Derek's hair made the other man moan, Stiles pressed deeper, inviting Derek to explore his mouth even more. After a long, long moment, Stiles reluctantly pulled back. "I'd say that was a success?" he said, panting.

Derek was panting softly right along with Stiles, lashes fallen low over his eyes in a slightly pleasure-drunk expression as he darted his tongue over his lower lip to catch the taste of Stiles still lingering there. Derek's hand smoothed to the small of Stiles' back and pressed there warmly as he gently touched his forehead to Stiles', a rare smile ghosting over his lips. "I'd say so," he murmured. He had just started to say something else when the door opened and Danny popped his head out. "Hey, I'm sorry if I overstep- oh...OH! Never mind me, I wasn't here!" He grinned and ducked back inside.

Stiles stared at the door for a moment, then started laughing. “Oh man,” he said at last, “Someday he’s going to have the _best story_ about how we got together. Our fucking...fairy godmother or something.” He grinned at Derek. “Or I guess it can be yet another story about his dreadful dating luck: ‘one time I was flirting with Stiles’ not-cousin and I ended up getting the two of them together’.“ He sighed happily. “Danny’s a good guy. I’m pretty sure most people would be pissed if the hottest guy in the club ran out on them because of feelings, but no, he’s just happy for us.”

Derek blinked and laughed softly himself, glancing at the now closed door and then back to Stiles. "Want to make the story a little better? The night's not over yet and the guy I happen to think is the hottest guy at the club hasn't danced with me yet." He held out his hand for Stiles'. It was crazy how just a few minutes ago he'd been sure he was going to regret ever coming along tonight and now he was glad he had: it'd taken an unexpected turn...a good one for once.

Stiles grinned and took Derek’s hand. “I think that can be arranged,” he said flirtatiously, and pulled Derek back to the door. The wave of sound that came through when he opened it was almost like a physical blow, but Stiles rallied, and plunged in. Dancing with Derek was so much better than dancing with random hot guys. For one, Derek was a better dancer, but he was just so...into Stiles. It was pretty intoxicating.

 

Derek hadn't led Stiles to just anywhere on the dance floor, he'd led him right to the centre of it. Derek hadn't chosen it to show off like a lot of people might, though. Stiles' words from before about just wanting to just feel sexy and desirable were tumbling around in his head, and he wanted Stiles to realize he was those things even when he didn't think so. If Derek had let the music move him back when he was dancing with Danny, it was nothing compared to when he danced with Stiles. They had already developed a kind of synchronicity and understanding with each other that made dancing together feel as natural as breathing. Derek wondered if Stiles felt it too, or if it was just his wolf's instincts and trust in Stiles that made him feel that way. Derek was surprised to find that for all Stiles' bouts of hyperactivity and clumsiness, when he danced (sober), Stiles made even innocent enough moves look like pure sex. But even the way Stiles was moving his body didn't compare with seeing his eyes light up, lips curling into a happy expression, and knowing it was directed at him, maybe even because of him.

Stiles couldn’t stop smiling. Watching Derek dance was nothing compared to actually dancing with him, oh my god he was sexy. And unlike when he was dancing with Danny, Stiles could tell Derek was actually into it, actually enjoying himself. This was...this was so much better than dancing with strangers. He could feel envious eyes on them, and he smirked. _That’s right, fellas_ , he thought, _you’re not getting any of this_. He moved closer, dragging his hands over Derek’s body, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his touch, and looked at Derek from under his lashes. “Having fun yet?” he asked.

Derek's eyes caught and held Stiles' as the younger man's hands roamed over his body, and he moved right into each touch encouragingly, smoothing his own hands over Stiles' lithe form in the same manner, exploratory, but staying with the beat. Derek had obviously done his fair share of dancing, but too often his partners had just used it as an excuse to thoughtlessly grind and grope, completely out of sync with the music. Stiles, on the other hand, caressed, stroked and swayed until Derek was mentally urging the music to get deeper, or faster. The crowd around them was nothing but a blur for Derek - all that existed for him in the moment was Stiles. He smiled easily for a change and answered honestly, "The most fun I've ever had dancing." He dipped closer and ghosted a kiss over Stiles' lips as they moved together.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat when Derek kissed him - lightly, like a passing thought he couldn’t bear not to indulge - and when Derek moved away, leaned forward and kissed him back. He moved closer, closing the space between their bodies, letting his hands range up and down Derek’s back as he pressed the two of them together, rolling his hips. “Everyone’s jealous,” he murmured in Derek’s ear. “You should see the way they’re glaring at me.” Everyone except Danny, who was grinning at them. Stiles really owed him.

Derek's hands slid down, one pressing against the small of Stiles' back as the other curled over his hip, rolling his own right back into them with the rhythm of the music thrumming through the club. Derek pressed closer into Stiles and at the mention of everyone being jealous he glanced up and around briefly before his eyes rested back on Stiles' with a brief glow that any onlooker would have just mistaken for the flashing lights. His voice was a low warm purr as he answered, "I've got plenty glaring at me too." Then he added right against Stiles' ear, "You're everything you said you wanted to be." Derek didn't sound like he meant just in that moment, either.

Derek’s breath against his ear made Stiles shiver; his crotch against Stiles’ made his blood rush southwards. Stiles swallowed hard. Usually his dancing was pretty light-hearted, but this was...intense, and getting more so. He licked his lips, and mirrored the press of Derek’s hips, rolling and grinding. This was what people meant when they said dancing was like sex standing up. “Fuck,” he gasped. “Want to get out of here?”

Derek's breath escaped him jaggedly when Stiles' hips practically molded into his own, the rolling and grinding only intensifying until they both fell out of sync with the music. The scent of Stiles' arousal curled up between them, mixed with his own and invaded his every breath until his throat went dry. Derek's fingers curled into the material over the small of Stiles' back as he tried to ground himself, his other hand moving from Stiles' hip to plunge into spiky brown locks, adding to their dishevelled appearance. Stiles' breathy question dragged a soft moan out of Derek before he found his voice properly. "Yeah, let’s get out here,” he murmured, finding he couldn't resist rubbing his jaw along the skin just under Stiles' ear.

Stiles tilted his head back into the tug of Derek’s fingers in his hair and gasped at the feeling of stubble rasping against sensitive skin. “Yeah, let’s, let’s do that,” he stuttered. He almost whined at having to move apart from Derek, but managed at last to force himself to step back, to lead him from the dance floor, out of the club - to kiss him again, deep and long and amazing - and back to the car. The cold night air made him shiver - it felt colder than before, with his skin flushed and hot from...everything.

 

Derek seriously considered pulling Stiles right back into his arms a couple times on the way out of the club, but the heated and bone-melting kiss just outside the door had him making his way to the car eagerly. Where there had been tension and awkwardness between them before, now there was an overwhelming urge to be alone with him. Once in the car Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles again,unable to stay away long. "Where to?" he breathed warmly over his kiss-damp lips, eyes on Stiles' own.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped. “Driving. Fuck driving. Not fair. Kissing is better.” He barely had a brain left - all his blood was busy elsewhere - but he took a few breaths and tried to think. “Bed. Somewhere with a bed. And preferably no-one to hear us. I’m not quiet.” Even as dark as it was, he could see Derek’s pupils dilate, and Stiles couldn’t help but tease him a little more. “God, and with you...I’d be so loud, Derek, I bet you could make me yell, bet you could make me moan and gasp and swear and _scream_ , Derek.”

Stiles' tease had the desired effect alright, and then some, As his wolf tried to surface, Derek's ability to think beyond _want...need...claim_ diminished greatly. Derek leaned into him more and this time kissed him deep and passionately, only pulling back when the urge to drag Stiles into the backseat grew a little too strong - he still had the presence of mind to know that would not be comfortable, or wise, in the parking lot of a crowded club. "The loft it is. I don't want you to be quiet...at all." Derek started the car up, and after he'd gotten out on the road, discovered that not touching Stiles right then was a little too unbearable. He moved his hand over to rest on Stiles' thigh, fingertips rubbing the inside of it, as teasing as Stiles' words had been.

“Oh fuck, Derek, not fair,” Stiles complained as Derek’s thumb rubbed at the seam of his jeans. He arched into the pressure. “Not fair at all.” He swallowed hard, looked at Derek to scold him, then realised that seeing Derek’s face was not helping and abruptly turned to face forward again. “I’m - shit - this is all going to be over embarrassingly quickly if you aren’t careful,” he warned. “I may have to retaliate.” How best to do that, Stiles wondered. He wasn’t confident enough to try giving a blowjob in a moving vehicle, although he had to admit it was on his bucket list. Hands were boring. Words had worked well before, though. “I could tell you all the fantasies I’ve had about you, for example. It’s quite a long list. Some of them are _very_ detailed.”

Derek didn't pull his hand away, but he did heed Stiles' warning and stop moving his fingertips. He wanted this to last as long as possible. He hadn't thought letting Stiles know how he felt about him would go well at all...much less that they'd be heading to his loft in a cloud of arousal and breathy words. Derek looked over at Stiles, his eyes hitting a deeper glow than back in the club. "If you tell me those details I might just feel the need to make every one of them come true...fair warning." Coming from anyone else that might have been just talk, but the expression on Derek's face made it a promise.

Stiles shivered at the heat in Derek’s voice. “Mm,” he hummed, “just one or two, maybe.” God, he was so hard. He pressed a palm against his crotch and gasped. “I’ll, I’ll save them for when I want to get you all, mm, riled up again.” He looked Derek over. “I’m thinking that will happen a lot. God, you’re hot. I’ve been wanting to have sex with you for so fucking long. I’ve been dreaming of you. I really want to suck you, you know that?” He glanced sideways at Derek from under his lashes, seeing Derek’s hands clenching on the wheel. “I bet you have the best cock. I bet it would taste so good.”

 

Derek's attempt to keep his hand still failed as Stiles pressed a palm against his own crotch, moaning as he said things that made Derek's blood boil...he growled lowly and pushed Stiles' hand aside to replace it with his own as he evened the verbal score. "I don't care how quick this is over, you're going to come a lot more than once tonight anyway." Derek pressed the heel of his hand down against Stiles'shard bulge, rubbing deep and slow. "Fuck, you smell so good Stiles. You're going to smell even better with my scent all over you.. _in you,_ until you'll smell like me for days after...like _mine_."

“Oh my fucking god,” Stiles gasped. “You are so fucking unfair, jesus, Derek.” He bucked up into Derek’s hand - it felt so good - and bit back a moan. “I think you’re actually going to kill me. You - oh shit - you may have werewolf stamina, but I’m only - fuck - only fucking human, and - oh god,” he broke off, panting. He was so close, so, so close, but he wanted, he wanted, “jesus fuck, Derek, don’t do that.” He rolled his hips upwards, belying his words. “I wanted, shit, I wanted to not just come in my pants in your fucking, your fucking sexy-ass car, oh fuck,” He bit his lip, shuddered, and lay still. “Fuck,” he murmured. “You’re going to kill me.”

Derek's eyes had hit a permanent glow and his hand rubbing over Stiles' bulge had become wickedly calculated, his lips parted in a near pant himself. Just getting Stiles off was driving him crazy and fuck he didn't want to be driving right then. "Killing you is not even close to what I plan to do to you..my little human." He added the last part with a breathy tease after Stiles said he was 'only human' - he knew enough about Stiles just by scent to know he had way more than one round in him...and damn did he love being a supernatural creature with extra senses sometimes. He reached the street to his loft and as he turned onto it he rubbed his hand slowly over the front of Stiles' jeans. "Maybe we should take advantage of that spacious shower I own." His thumb traced the outline of damp on the material.

“Nope,” Stiles said languidly, slumping back into his seat. “No moving. I have...no bones.” That was...fuck, that was amazing. If a little embarrassing. But seriously, Stiles dared anyone not to come in their pants with fucking Derek Hale rubbing them off like that. Speaking of...Stiles rolled his head sideways, and realised that Derek was still seriously, uh, riled up. Like, he looked pretty desperate. “Oh, shit dude. Sorry. I’m an ass.” Somehow he’d managed to completely forget about Derek’s boner in the afterglow, which...seriously, stupid afterglow. Derek’s dick was in no way forgettable. Stiles never wanted to forget Derek’s dick. “Yeah. Shower. I can suck you off, return the favour.”

 

A smile twitched at the corners of Derek's lips. The whole car was clouded with Stiles' scent and Derek had never felt closer to heaven than he did right then...which promised bliss when Stiles was actually touching him back. Derek pulled up outside the loft and shut the engine off, turning his head to look Stiles over appreciatively. "That was no favour - I enjoyed every second of it," he admitted. There was no hiding he was painfully hard, but Derek wasn't keeping score, and couldn't help but look at Stiles like he'd love to wreck him all over again.

Stiles leaned over and kissed him lightly. “You’re sweet,” he commented. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. “Come on then,” he called over his shoulder. “I can’t imagine you’ve got much patience left.” The glow in Derek’s eyes made him shiver a little, and he couldn’t hide the way it made him stir in his pants again. “Ugh, chafing,” he muttered, as he followed Derek to the elevator. “I seriously need to get out of these pants.” A second later, he realised what he’d said, and sputtered. “Not like that! Well, yes like that, actually, but, y’know…” He groaned. “Jesus fuck, I am so incompetent.”

Derek did smirk then and he moved into Stiles' space, pressing him back into the wall of the elevator...because fuck patience. Derek dropped his hands down to undo Stiles' jeans as he dipped his head to catch the younger man's lips - this was a serious advantage to an elevator that opened right into his loft that he'd never considered until now. Stiles' little self-conscious groan made Derek want to cuddle him reassuringly, a strange urge when mixed with wanting to drag him to bed and make him moan until he was hoarse. Once the elevator opened into the loft Derek ran his hands down the backs of Stiles' thighs and urged his legs up around his waist because...practicality, of course, less walking meant less chafing...or maybe he just wanted Stiles wrapped around him.

“Holy shit,” Stiles exclaimed when Derek just, just _picked him up_ , jesus christ, that was way too sexy for Stiles’ brain right now. And he could feel Derek’s dick pressing up against him and, fucking hell, all those fantasies from over the years about Derek fucking him against a wall came back all of a sudden and, yep, Stiles was hard again. Very. A lot. And Derek was now carrying him up the fucking stairs. Because the bathroom was upstairs. That was a thing Stiles knew. So now they were going upstairs. To the bathroom. “You have completely ruined my ability to think, you know that?” Stiles complained. “There is no blood in my brain. It is all gone. Just...fuck. Hurry up, would you? Please?”

Derek didn't need to be told twice - he walked a lot quicker up the rest of the stairs and had them in the spacious bathroom before Stiles could have uttered the words again. He let Stiles down to his feet so he slid down Derek's body in the process and his hands were instantly hooking in Stiles' waistband, dragging down on the material as he growled and caught Stiles' lips, passionate and claiming. "Fuck, I want you, Stiles. Do you even have any idea how crazy you drive me?" His eyes lit up, gaze dragging down over Stiles like he'd wanted to so many times before. Nothing was stopping him now.

Stiles gulped. “I’m...starting to get an idea, yeah,” he replied, stammering a little under the weight and heat of Derek’s gaze. He stared, transfixed, then shook his head a little to clear it. “You know what would make this better? Nakedness,” he answered himself. “There is not nearly enough nakedness in this bathroom for our awesome, amazing, sex-in-the-shower plans.” He nodded decisively and tugged his shirt over his head, which was hard to do when he didn’t want to look away from Derek’s sexy, sexy...everything. He reached for his fly, then stopped himself. “Fuck - shoes,” he muttered, kneeling to untie the laces. “Yeah, fuck _shoes_ , why am I even still wearing these?” He glanced up and froze. His head was currently level with the - rather significant - bulge in Derek’s pants. His head was level with Derek’s crotch. He was staring at Derek’s crotch. “Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “I want to suck you so bad, _fuck_. Why are you still wearing pants?”

Derek's gaze only heated up more as Stiles' shirt came off and provided him with an eyeful of subtly toned muscles wrapped in creamy skin. The dusting of moles on his face and neck and scattered randomly across the rest of his body made Derek itch to play connect the dots with kisses and caresses. Derek wanted more, craved seeing Stiles fully naked, claiming every inch of skin in every way possible. A hint of a growl had just barely started in his throat when the sound turned into a breath of a laugh instead as Stiles suddenly focused on his shoes, but it strangled in his throat when the younger male wound up staring at his crotch. Derek's throat went dry, and at Stiles' words the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans turned into a denim prison that bordered on painful. He kicked his own shoes off easily and dropped his hands to undo his jeans before shoving them halfway down his hips along with his boxer briefs, answering thickly, "You can do anything you want to." Derek hadn't trusted anyone enough to utter those words in a long time, but now he didn't think twice about them.

 

Stiles swallowed hard. He knew how much that meant, and for a moment, the significance overwhelmed him. Then he shook his head to clear it, and refocused Derek’s cock. “Well, right now I want to suck you,” he said matter-of-factly, and knelt. “You have a really nice dick,” he said appreciatively. Which Derek did. It wasn’t a porn dick, or anything, but porn dicks were probably a lot less fun to have sex with than to look at. Derek’s dick was just...good-sized, weighty looking, uncut, and - Stiles wanted to taste it. He flicked out his tongue and licked the tip, which was already sticky with precome. It tasted good - like precome, but still, good. Stiles wrapped his lips around the tip and suckled, a little hesitantly, then bobbed down further. Yeah. Yeah, he liked this a lot.

Derek wasn't about to point out they hadn't exactly made it to the shower yet, not with Stiles on his knees as he admired Derek's cock which caused it to jump and twitch a little. A wave of heat flushed through Derek that was part hunger to be touched and part having his body praised. It wasn't that Derek hadn't heard it before, but having Stiles dole out praise could easily become a new kink for him. "You have a nice... _everything_." Derek breathed out the last word ineloquently as Stiles' tongue swiped his tip right before wrapping his lips around it and suckling. Pleasure crawled up Derek's spine and he curled one hand over a creamy shoulder and the other moved up to run fingers through the mess of Stiles' spiky hair.

Stiles made a pleased noise at the feeling of Derek's hands in his hair - hell, one of the reasons he'd kept it longer was he liked the idea of guys pulling it - and sank down a little deeper onto his cock, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently. He savoured the weight of it on his tongue for a moment, then began to bob his head, taking Derek's cock further in each time, wrapping one hand around the base to make up the difference while he adjusted. Sucking Derek was fantastic. He could feel Derek trying to hold himself back, all the little aborted movements in front of him, and hear Derek making these bitten-off gasps and moans that made Stiles just want to make him yell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my anonymous collaborator for Derek and the prompt. I hope we didn't frustrate you /too/ much with the lack of an ending.


End file.
